The following is a work of fiction
involving adult themes. If you aren’t interested in bondage and erotica,
please go elsewhere. I should also point out that I’ve never been
to Eros boutique, I don’t know if they employ anyone name Margaret, and
that I’m creating the descriptions that followed from whole cloth.
This story was originally started for a contest they sponsored, but wasn’t
completed in time for submission. I will happily remove the references
to the store upon request.

There are some places that just
reek of history, projecting a character all of their own. While I’d
heard that about New York, mostly it struck me as reeking of money, aggression,
and a very “Whadda you want?” type of attitude. Don’t ask me why
– it could have been the fact that I was always there for business and
tended to be in the downtown Manhattan area, so I’d never had a chance
to really be a tourist there. Not so Boston. The first time
I’d been there, I’d fallen in love with the city. It seemed to reek
of our national history, of immigrants making good in a new country, and
of an almost old-world charm that reminded me in ways of my limited time
in Great Britain.

So when we’d gotten a referral from
one of my clients that would pull Lydia and I there for at least a month,
I jumped at the chance. We’d finally decided to hire Dave, relationship
with Jane or no, and he was providing us great help both with clients and
acting as a sort of business manager. Suddenly the burdens of running
a company weren’t quite so burdensome, and I had greater time to enjoy
myself without worrying about the office, our growing employee base, and
paying the bills. The chance to do “real work” in the form of reviewing
code for security holes while my wife tackled the infrastructure in a city
I loved to visit was just too great an opportunity to pass up.

So we settled on a mix of work and
fun since we’d been without a real vacation for the better part of two
years. Lydia was starting to make noises about getting a family going,
an idea that was beginning to have its attractions, and I figured that
if that happened, we’d almost certainly be extending that streak.
We accepted the project, and decided that driving there would both be more
fun than flying and allow us to bring along some toys that the Transportation
Safety Administration would certainly have some fun inspecting in our checked
bags. We rented a house at a reasonable price for six weeks, packed
up for the journey, and headed out.

While we were busy during the week,
the weekends were ours and we made the most of it. The hours were
fairly long for both of us, largely because what the client had thought
was secure didn’t pass muster. You’d have a harder time sneaking
across the Canadian-US border than hacking through some of their systems
and code. That was both alarming, from a “What were you thinking?”
perspective, and something of a benefit since it resulted in an extension
of the contract and some hefty performance bonuses that the contract called
for if we found serious issues.

After three weeks, I’d completed
the code review and literally had nothing to do until the bug fixes had
been written and the new code was ready for testing. Not so lucky
with Lydia – the infrastructure was a mess and she was expecting that the
security manager was about to get fired, which would only add to the work
she’d have to do. So the vacation piece of the puzzle hadn’t quite
worked out yet for the two of us. I’d just spent two days sight-seeing
and visiting various Revolutionary War sites and was looking forward to
a Saturday with my wife. Rather than getting the bug fixes to me
piecemeal, they were all going to show up in a single package, so I was
at least another three working days before I’d have work to do again.
I woke up on Saturday looking forward to a day with my wife, and hoping
that we’d spend only a portion of it outside of the apartment. It’d
been a very busy week for her, and we hadn’t had much private time with
her in the right mood.

The day started well enough, a leisurely
breakfast over the paper, with much discussion of the museums she wanted
to visit and things we want to do. I was starting to clean up the
dishes when she said “We could always visit a boutique I heard about, too.”

I didn’t try to stifle my groan
or the way I rolled my eyes. I absolutely despise shopping, and while
watching Lydia change clothes can be fun, I really had been hoping for
a bit more than that both in terms of enjoying the day’s events and seeing
something “worth seeing.”

She laughed at my reaction and didn’t
let me get a word in before she said, “Don’t be such a grump. It’s
one day and I bet you’ll end up enjoying it.”

Just then, her cell phone rang and
I figured that any hope of a fun day had just gone down the tubes.
Odds were it was our client and odds were even better that they were looking
for her to do something today. I was right on both accounts.

“They’re firing Denny on Monday,”
she said as she hung up the phone and started writing something down.
“They want me to talk to them about the right skills for a replacement
and review some resumes they’ve got from folks that were over-qualified
for other jobs. It won’t take long. I’ll meet you at this address
at noon and we’ll get our day going, OK?”

I grumbled a bit but Lydia wasn’t
having any of it – she was already on her way to the shower. I grabbed
the champagne I had been about to put in the fridge and started making
myself another mimosa. If I was going to be stuck shopping, being
a little tipsy might not be a bad thing and the address on Tremont street
made me pretty comfortable that there would be a T stop within walking
distance. I went back to the paper and Lydia decided to leave me
be while she rushed to get ready and get out the door. A quick “See
you at noon” and a kiss and she was out the door less than twenty minutes
later.

I glanced at the clock and the half
bottle of champagne that was still left after the two or three I’d already
hade. I hadn’t spent a lot of time in the South End, so I decided
I’d get ready now, read the rest of the paper and finish the bubbly, and
still have at least an hour to wander around before I needed to meet Lydia.
My game plan set, I started executing on it, working on killing the bottle
at the same time.

When I got of the “T,” I was more
than a bit surprised to find myself staring at the address I’d been given
right outside the Tremont Street station. While I’d planned on doing
a bit of wandering and it was just after 11:00, I decided that a preview
of what was in store for me when my lovely wife finally arrived.
I headed for the building. I was a bit tipsy, and didn’t bother to
look much at signs, so it was a bit of a surprise to find myself in front
of “Eros Boutique” when I found the address. I immediately started
to smile. Lydia’s shopping trip was for new toys, not for clothes.

I was glancing through the door
when I heard someone say “We don’t open until noon today. Mind letting
me by so I can get in there to make sure that happens?”

An attractive young woman with a
backpack over one shoulder stood there with a key ring in her hands.
She was smiling as though she was used to finding someone ogling through
the window and then running away when discovered. I grinned.

“Sorry. I’m meeting my wife
here in an hour and just had the address. She hadn’t told me what
type of boutique you’ve got and curiosity got the better of me.”

The booze definitely had my tongue
running a bit. Usually, I’d just have said “Excuse me,” and gotten
out of the way.

“Your wife was going to surprise
you, eh? And you ruined it.” She fitted her key in the one
of the locks and began opening the door. “You from out of town?”

I figured it wouldn’t hurt to make
conversation, so I went ahead. “Yep. We’re here on business
and get the weekends for fun. Well, at least some of that time, anyway.
How could you tell?”

She smiled her charming smile as
she bent to unlock the bolt at the bottom of the door. “We’re a bit
famous among the locals. Well, you want a chance to surprise her?
I’ve a soft spot for visitors and you look harmless. I could let
you do a bit of browsing until she gets here. What’s your wife’s
name?”

My curiosity was definitely piqued,
and I hadn’t anything better to do, so I happily agreed and let my tongue
continue running along. “Lydia, and that’d be great.”

Now, Lydia and I are definitely
into bondage, but latex had never particularly entered the picture.
If she had a fetish for it, she hadn’t expressed it as yet and we’d been
together long enough (and been adventurous enough) that I was a bit surprised
to find that the shop contained scads of rubber and latex items.
Dresses with a distinctly sexual cut, form hugging catsuits and shorts,
and rubber bondage items of various flavors. While I wouldn’t have
minded seeing Lydia in any small number of the outfits, it was the bondage
items that drew my alcohol befuddled (and now more than slightly horny)
attention.

I’m a huge fan of mummification,
but the mannequin wearing latex straightjacket and leg binder caught my
attention more than the sleep sack. Our leather straightjacket is
a favorite of mine for simplicity and complete inability to escape, so
my mind promptly wandered to how the rubber would alter the sensation.
Three quarters of a bottle of champagne, the thought that my lovely wife
would soon be here, and the immediate presence of the items themselves
put my libido and imagination into overdrive almost at once.

I let that thought run for a moment
when I heard the phone ringing somewhere in the store. The noise
shook me out of my reverie and put me back “on the hunt” for interesting
items. Just a few feet from the mannequin I’d been staring at was
a rack with “Bondage Strips,” which promptly got the imagination going
once again. Long strips of latex that one could wrap around the body
until the subject was restrained to taste had an amazing number of possibilities.
Still, the straightjacket and binder kept creeping back in to my mind,
and I couldn’t help but stare at them.

“Find something you like?”

I nearly jumped when the lovely
young woman that had opened the store spoke behind me. My thoughts
had absorbed so much of my attention that I hadn’t noticed she had walked
my way. She had a box in her hands, obviously about to restock some
items.

“There are some distinct…possibilities
that spring to mind,” I replied smiling.

“Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t
mind making a sale before we even open. I’m Margaret. Can I
help with anything…”

“Ray. I probably should just
wait for my wife to arrive. It’s really her shopping trip.”

She put the box down and noticed
that I still looked in the direction of the mannequin that had caught my
eye.

“Is that for you or for her?
Lydia, wasn’t it?”

“If we could do both, that’d be
best. We switch around as the mood strikes us.”

Margaret smiled and approached the
shelves near the mannequin. “Well if she’s about your height, then
that’s a distinct possibility. The latex gives a bit and it’s a unisex
design. Have you ever worn a straightjacket yourself?”

I smiled to myself as she started
rummaging through the stacks next to the display.

“We’ve got a leather one that works
for both of us. It barely fits her snugly.”

“Ohhh, then you just have to try
one of ours. The leather leaves a good amount of room even if you
strap all the straps up tight. Latex makes it like you’ve been tied
up in your own skin.”

The thought hadn’t really occurred
to me – the rubber wouldn’t leave the space between the skin and the jacket
that the leather would. The booze and imagination kicked in and started
pumping blood to an area of my body that one doesn’t discuss in polite
society.

Margaret stood with one of the jackets
in her hands. “If I let you try it on in the back and it’s a good
fit, would you buy it?” She had a lovely smile, and I could see that
she’d had some experience both with the merchandise and sales.

Now I’m not the adventurous one
in my marriage. At least, not unless I’ve drunk a bit too much and
I happen to be getting horny, apparently. I glanced at my watch and
was surprised that it was only a bit after 11:15. It had seemed longer
as I wandered about the store, but I really hadn’t spent much time anywhere
but where I was at the moment. The booze kicked my curiosity into
high gear, and for reasons that I still can’t completely explain I said.
“Sure.”

We headed towards the back of the
store, making a bit of small talk about why we were in town and what sights
we’d seen. If I weren’t slightly boozed, it would have struck me
as quite odd. We walked through a non-descript door tucked out of
the way and into what was obviously a stockroom. Margaret pointed
to another door and said, “That’s the office. Why don’t we go in
there in case anyone else shows up for work. They’re not due for
about fifteen minutes, but since I’m the only one with a key to that door
today, it’ll be safer.”

We walked in and she suggested that
I strip to my underwear. “It won’t feel right over your clothes.”
For reasons that escape explanation, I complied without hesitating.
Margaret handed me a bottle of powder and said “It’ll be easier to get
on if you put some of this on your arms and torso.” Again, I eagerly
complied.

She held the jacket open for me,
and I squirmed my arms into the sleeves. It was a bit of work to
fit them in, since the latex gripped them tightly. Right away, I
could tell that this would be quite different from our other experiences
at home. The sleeves were quite snug and really did fit like a second
skin, just as Margaret had said it would.

“Grabs you nice and tight, doesn’t
it?” she asked. “It only gets better. The whole thing ends
up like that.”

She moved around behind me once
my arms were properly inserted, and started doing up the zipper and straps,
talking as she did. “You’ll notice the zipper has a protective guard
to keep it from catching hair or skin. And we hem all of the seams
to add strength. Latex is a wonderful material, but it can be fragile,
so the straps are all canvas covered to make them secure and impossible
to tear. Arms, please.”

I was almost literally lost in my
feelings and hadn’t noticed that she’d finished off the straps in back.
I crossed my arms without thinking, and felt her grab the straps at the
end of the sleeves and pulled them around back. The feeling of the
rubber was almost electric, as though static electricity generated by putting
the garment on were somehow being transmitted into my body. I suppressed
the urge to moan as she finished with the arm straps and moved on to the
crotch straps. Just as the second one was finished, the phone rang
again.

She moved around in front of me
and smiled. “I’ve got to get that, but I’ll do it out front so you
can experiment without raising any suspicious. Wouldn’t do to have
to explain the noise to my boss if that’s who’s on the phone.”

She walked out the door and I started
testing my range of motion. Simply put, it didn’t exist to any real
extent. I could move my elbows a bit, but not far enough to make
a damned bit of difference. And every motion caused tension to appear
in one area and disappear in another. It was like being mummified
in many ways, but different. I would definitely enjoy taking this
home, the feeling of complete enclosure was incredible since the latex
gripped every part of my torso and arms as though molded to my skin.
I struggled experimentally and definitely wasn’t getting loose.

While I was enjoying the feeling,
I was getting a bit worried about how long Margaret had been gone.
The clock over the desk said that it had been almost five minutes, and
while I love being restrained, I really want Lydia to be the one doing
it. And it was getting to be close to the time she was due to arrive.
I certainly wouldn’t want her to somehow find me like this. She’s
adventurous, but we’re distinctly monogamous so I had no expectation that
me in my underwear and a latex straightjacket in the back room of her chosen
shopping trip would do anything to make her happy.

Just as the thought crossed my mind,
Margaret reappeared with a box in her hand. She grinned at me and
said “Sorry to take so long, but that was the boss. He’s not normally
in on a Saturday, but he’ll be swinging by and wanted some things waiting
for him.” She walked to the desk as she said this and placed the
box there.

“Not a problem,” I replied.
“But I think I should get out of this before I get ripe. It’s a bit
warm.” This was at least partially true, since the latex was doing
an excellent job of trapping my body heat.

“That’s fine. Glad to help
if it nets us a sale. Turn around so I can get at the straps.”

I obliged, and she apparently bumped
the box as she moved around the desk towards me because it fell on the
floor. Being fairly sizable box, it fell with a decent amount of
noise and the top opened slightly. “Clumsy of me,” she said as she
picked it up. I looked away and closed my eyes. I was imagining
Lydia sealing me in this thing and having her way with me for a while.

I felt a tug on the right crotch
strap and exhaled as my release began. Or at least, what I thought
would be my release. Instead, the belt tightened and I could feel
the buckle being done up again. I turned my head a bit and said “Umm.
That seems to be the wrong way.”

She grinned at me and said, “I just
wanted to see if it could go one notch further. That much more restrictive,
that much more sensual.” The look on her face was pure mischief.

“Well, now you know. If you’d…”
I never got to finish the sentence as she quickly produced what looked
like a rag and jammed it into my mouth. I was about to try to bite
her fingers when she looked a bit stern and said, “You’re not in a position
to say ‘No’ unless you’re a kick-boxer by trade. Behave and you’ll
get free eventually.”

That stopped me cold. While
I could complain to the police, I really wasn’t wild on the story I’d have
to tell. “Yes, officer, I did let her put me in that. But I
can explain…” Hardly the way to file a report. I decided that
it was unlikely she’d be able, or necessarily even willing, to do me any
harm in such a public place. And I’d made myself helpless in front
of her, so all I could really do was curse drinking too much too early
and being an idiot. I let her press the rag into my mouth until it
filled it snugly without being too deep.

The boss’s box turned out to be
her supplies. One of the bondage strips appeared and was taken out
of the package. That went snugly around my jaw, then my eyes, and
was finally wrapped several times from below my jaw to above my head.
While not a hood, it was equally effective at both blinding me and keeping
my gag in place.

I nearly jumped when the door opened.
Margaret laughed and said, “Come on in. He’s almost ready.”

I struggled more than a bit at that,
but someone grabbed my arms and Margaret said, “Too late for that now.
Behave.” I tried to express my displeasure vocally, but that didn’t
work out any better.

“Legs first. Let’s not have
him get frisky,” Margaret said. My ankles were pushed together and
I felt latex being wrapped about them. I assumed it was another one
of the bondage strips, but I’d no real way of knowing.

“Come take care of the front straps,
would you,” Margaret said and I heard the sound of steps move around me.
Then I felt first one and then the other crotchstrap being loosened.
I tested for slack, but apparently she and her mystery partner were holding
them securely to prevent me from lifting the bottom of the jacket up.
Then I felt someone start to tug down on my only remaining clothing – my
underwear. I struggled as mightily as I could, but there wasn’t much
I could do. I groaned, embarrassed that my excitement at the situation
was overcoming my fear to at least some extent. My body was giving
that away in unmistakable terms.

My underwear made it to the top
of the bindings around my ankles and stopped there. Then the crotchstraps
were passed back through my legs and re-buckled. Whoever was in front
of me took care not to touch my engorged member, though it was impossible
to tell if that was on purpose or not. Regardless, they were now
being quite business-like in their binding.

“Stay there. You can handle
this part,” said Margaret. I heard her rummaging around behind me
and assumed that the box she’d brought in hadn’t been for her boss, but
had been for me. I felt her wrap something around my waist, which
was promptly tightened.

“Picked this out himself, he did,”
said Margaret with a chuckle. As the zipper was being done up I knew
exactly what it was – the rubber leg binder that the mannequin I’d been
ogling had been wearing. I heard suppressed laugh in front of me
as the zipper drew the binder tight about my legs, then stopped just below
the knees. The binding at my ankles was removed, followed by the
underwear. Then the zipper completed its journey towards my feet
to the limit of its movement. I contemplated trying to kick and get
away, but with the zipper at my knees, I was only likely to fall over.
I was well and truly stuck. The zipper done up, I could feel the
straps on the binder being secured quite tightly, and couldn’t help but
get more excited with the feeling of the latex on my naked manhood.
If I weren’t being kidnapped, I’d have been in heaven.

There was the sound of an office
chair rolling across the linoleum and I was pushed until I sat in it.
Then I heard Margaret say, “There you go. All ready for shipping.
I’ll go ring this stuff up.”

I really started to struggle now
– I wasn’t about to become someone’s kidnapped sex toy without some type
of a fight. As I heard Margaret walk out the door, laughing a bit
to herself, I felt her companion sit on my lap and press my shoulders back
into the chair to hold me still. I thrashed a bit more, then ceased
and let loose with a string of muffled profanity that would have made a
sailor blush.

The bondage strip about my head
was suddenly being unwound, so I ceased my thrashing and cursing.
The latex gripped me far too tightly and the struggling was actually only
making my erection that much more potent. And if I did behave, then
perhaps I’d get the chance to talk my way out of this mess. The unwrapping
finally reached my eyes and I blinked at the sudden brightness. I
was about to protest that it had stopped before removing my gag when I
felt my face flush with embarrassment.

Lydia was sitting on my lap, grinning
like the Cheshire cat.

“You’re hopelessly stupid sometimes,
you know that? It’s a good thing Margaret’s an old friend of Jane’s
or you’d really be up a creek. And for me, it’s a good thing you’re
predictable or this wouldn’t have been so much fun for me.” Her hand
brushed against my privates, eliciting a strong reaction.

She stood and backed up a few steps
to take my bound form in. “Absolutely stunning, dear. And I
can tell that you simply can’t stand the feeling.”

She walked around behind me and
started running her hands over my shoulders and arms. “That’s quite
different from the leather, isn’t it? Seems tighter and perhaps a
bit sexier.”

As she reappeared, I tried to convince
her through my gag that it was time to remove it so we could talk.
She did reach for the strip around my head, but only to wrap it back up
and blind me again. I felt her lean close, her bosom brushing against
my chest. She whispered, “Margaret tells me they have a box that
ought to fit you, so I think I’ll leave you like this for the trip home.
I’ll be back after I’ve settled the tab and maybe taken a quick look around.”

As I heard the door close, I struggled
in my confinement. Maybe I could grow to enjoy shopping after all…

09.08.05

If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back tomummified stories